


Inconceivable

by imaginary_golux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Swearing, The Princess Bride References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: A pair of strangers meet at a bar and commiserate over the brave, brilliant, gorgeous,magnificentmen that each has fallen for.It gets a little more awkward when it turns out they're talking about the same guy.Beta by my very patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.





	Inconceivable

Poe is most of the way through a _very_ strong Long Island iced tea when the girl sits down next to him and says to Maz, “Whiskey, please. Neat.”

Maz checks the girl’s I.D. with a wink and serves her a glass. The girl downs it in one long swallow, grimaces, and orders another. Poe gives her an impressed look. “Wow,” he says.

“It’s been that sort of day,” she sighs.

“Yeah?” Poe asks, not _prying_ precisely but at least leaving the opportunity to talk open. Maybe whatever her trouble is will take his mind off _his_.

“Guy trouble,” she says wearily. Poe raises his glass and clinks it against hers.

“Same,” he admits. The girl chuckles and clinks her glass back on his, then downs half of it. Poe takes a long sip of his. “Tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours?”

“Sure,” she says. “Might be good to get it off my chest.” She sighs. “There’s this guy,” she starts, and trails off, waving a hand like she’s trying to draw him on the air.

“Cute?” Poe asks, thinking of Finn’s beautiful face.

“ _Gorgeous_ ,” the girl says. “God, his face - his smile -”

“Mine’s got the best smile,” Poe agrees. “Lights up the whole damn room. Like sunrise.”

“Sunrise over the fricking _ocean_ ,” the girl says. “Just - god, it’s so beautiful it makes me want to swoon, and let me tell you, I do not swoon.”

Poe laughs. “Yeah, I getcha,” he agrees, draining his drink and signalling Maz for another. The girl imitates him. “I’ve had some serious thoughts about swooning myself. God, but he’s beautiful.”

“And _smart_ ,” the girl says, waving her hands animatedly. “He’s always reading, I swear, and he’s got an eidetic memory or something, because he’s got all of it filed away, and if he doesn’t know something, well, you bet the next time you see him he’ll have gone and _learned_ it.”

“Teaching himself engineering on the job,” Poe laments. “Never even _seen_ the inside of a car before he started, and now he’s the second-best mechanic on the whole damn _crew_ and he’s gunning for my spot - bet he’s going to have it soon, too.”

“Ugh,” the girl says, taking another long gulp of her whiskey. Poe suspects Maz has started watering their drinks. Sensible woman.

“And he’s so _kind_ ,” Poe says dreamily. “Just - always wants to help, always _willing_ to help, I swear he’d give a stranger the shirt off his back. Mmmm, shirtless, now there’s an image.”

The girl giggles. “Yeah,” she agrees. “He’s always there for me, and maybe he doesn’t know the perfect thing to say but he’s always _trying_. He came through for me in - in a pretty awful time, and he won’t even let me thank him. Just says it was the right thing to do.”

They clink glasses again. “He’s brave,” Poe says thoughtfully. “Not just, like, facing danger. But he’ll call people out on being racist or sexist, even when it’s really fucking awkward. And he’ll step up even when he’s fucking _terrified_. And sorry, I swear a lot when I’m drunk.”

The girl laughs. “No fucking worries,” she says. “We can be drunk and foul-mouthed together.” She sighs. “Mine’s brave, too. He’s been fucked over every way the world _can_ fuck you over, just about, and he’s still so - so willing to try. Bravest thing I ever saw.”

They both sigh, in slightly ridiculous unison. “So,” Poe says, “why haven’t you asked _yours_ out?”

“Because he’s completely hung up on this guy he knows at his work,” the girl sighs. “Can’t say two fucking sentences without talking about him. And he deserves to get what he fucking wants, y’know? I’m not gonna go horning in when he’s not fucking _interested_.”

Poe pats her rather clumsily on the shoulder. “I hear that,” he says mournfully. “Mine is _madly_ in love with this girl he knows. I don’t even know if he’d even fucking be _into_ guys - or be into fucking guys, for that matter -” he and the girl both laugh, leaning against each other now - “but damn, I do not know why she has not fucking _married_ him yet. I can’t believe anyone would turn him _down_.”

“God, yeah, I _know_ ,” the girl says. “I mean, even if his guy at work isn’t fucking _into_ guys - or into fucking guys, hah -” Poe’s pretty sure as an in-joke that one is frankly not terribly good, but it makes them both laugh again, so hey, it’s alright - “I’d think _anyone’d_ be into _him_. Like, you know those lists some people have? ‘I’d go gay for that one’?”

“Yeah,” Poe agrees. “My one co-worker, her list’s just Gwendolyn Christie.”

“Huh, good choice,” the girl says, briefly distracted. “Good taste, your co-worker’s got.”

“Yeah,” Poe says, grinning.

“Yeah,” the girl says. “Anyway. I’d think my guy, he’d be on anyone’s list. I mean, smart, brave, kind, beautiful - shit, he’s even good with _kids_. It isn’t fair.”

“Christ,” Poe says ruefully, and drains his however-manyth glass. “I hear that. God, do I hear that.”

There’s a soft sound behind them, someone clearing their throat, and Poe slews around on his stool to tell whoever it is that he and his drinking buddy are _busy_ , thank you very much, and the words die in his throat when he sees Finn standing there, resplendent in the jacket that used to be Poe’s, looking at Poe and the girl with a single raised eyebrow and a slightly dubious expression. “Hey, guys,” he says mildly.

The girl spins around a little too fast, and just barely catches herself on the bar before she falls. “Finn,” she says blankly, and Poe blinks at her in confusion, because - because if _she_ knows Finn - and _he_ knows Finn - and Finn knows both of _them_ -

“Poe, Rey,” Finn says, sounding puzzled. “I didn’t know you knew each other. Everything all right? Maz said you were getting _really_ drunk.”

“Wait,” the girl says, not to Finn but to Poe. “You’re _Poe_. Work-Poe. The one who’s too kind and clever and patient for words, who gave Finn a jacket and a chance when no one else would.” She’s quoting, clearly, from a recitation she’s heard too many times.

“You’re Rey,” Poe says, the realization like a bucket of cold water over his head. “Meditation group Rey. The one who’s so fierce and brilliant and wonderful that you light up a room, who gave Finn a reason to keep fighting.” He’s reciting, too, and he thinks she knows it.

“Then you -” Rey says, gesturing from Poe to Finn and back. “You’re -”

“And you’re -” Poe agrees, nodding a little too hard and regretting it when his head starts spinning.

“Guys?” Finn asks, sounding genuinely worried now. Poe reaches out and pats him clumsily on the chest, attempting to be reassuring. It doesn’t seem to have worked, though.

Rey is frowning, clearly attempting to cudgel her drink-muzzy thoughts into order. “Wait. _You_ think he’s into me, and _I_ think he’s into you, and we’re _both_ madly in love with him -”

“Guys?” Finn says again.

“I’m too drunk to think,” Poe says carefully to Rey, who nods.

“That’s it, I’m taking you both home,” Finn says, and Poe is too drunk to really argue when Finn loops his arms around both of their waists and tugs them out of the Cantina to his beat-up old car, pours them into the back seats and hands each of them a water bottle. Drinking the water takes most of Poe’s concentration, and the next thing he knows Finn is helping them out of the car again and into Finn’s tidy little apartment. “Rey, you can have my bed, Poe, you can have the couch,” he says, and Poe heads for the squashy monstrosity of a sofa without complaint. It’s only when he’s lying down that he realizes -

“Where’re _you_ gonna sleep?”

“I’ve got a sleeping bag,” Finn says. “Don’t worry about me.”

There’s something wrong with that, but sleep comes up and socks Poe between the eyes before he can figure out what.

*

Poe wakes up with a splitting headache and a very dry mouth. Rey is sitting on the arm of the couch, holding a glass of water and a pair of aspirin. Poe takes them with a look he hopes conveys his immense gratitude and drains the water in a few long gulps.

“Finn’s out for a run,” Rey says quietly. “Figured we should talk while he was out.”

“Yeah,” Poe says, the previous evening replaying in his head. “So we’re both in love with him.”

“And you think he’s in love with me, and I think he’s in love with you,” Rey agrees.

Poe rubs his forehead for a moment. “Alright, so...as I see it, there are four options,” he says at last. Rey raises an eyebrow. “You’re right, I’m right, we’re both right, or we’re both wrong.”

“Fair,” Rey agrees.

“...We need to ask him,” Poe says finally. “And - well - if I’m right, you seem almost awesome enough to deserve him, so...so yeah. I won’t make trouble.”

“Same,” Rey says solemnly, nodding. “If he wants _you_ , well, you love him about as much as I do, so I guess you’ll do.”

“And if he doesn’t want either of us, we can get drunk together and drown our sorrows,” Poe says, mustering half a grin from somewhere.

“Deal,” Rey says. “We seem to be good at that. And - well - if he wants _both_ of us?”

Poe considers it carefully. “I’m not really a possessive sort,” he says at last. “I could share.”

“I _am_ a possessive sort,” Rey says ruefully. “But - you seem a decent fellow. I could learn to share.”

“Not ‘I hate to kill you’?” Poe asks, grinning.

“I will if you hurt him,” Rey says solemnly. “But I don’t think I’ll need to. If he _does_ want both of us - share and share alike?” She holds out a hand, and Poe clasps it.

“Share and share alike,” he agrees. “If he _does_.”

*

Finn walks in the door already pulling off his shirt, and Poe and Rey sit there on the couch with near-identical expressions of open-mouthed lust as Finn uses the shirt to wipe some of the sweat from his face, his chest gleaming with exertion. “That,” Poe says very quietly after a moment, “is not fair.”

“No,” Rey agrees, and then Finn looks up and smiles at them, that sunrise smile that makes _both_ of them want to swoon, and Poe ends up leaning against Rey’s shoulder so as not to collapse. He’s slightly reassured by the fact that Rey is leaning just as hard against him.

“Hey, guys, you look better,” Finn says cheerfully. “How’re you feeling?”

Poe is honestly not sure how to answer that. Rey is apparently have the same trouble. They glance at each other, and then at Finn again - Finn! _Shirtless_! - and finally Rey says, slowly, “We’ve got a question for you.”

“...Yeah?” Finn says, frowning a little.

“Are you - which of us are you in love with?” Rey blurts.

And Finn, with an expression that suggests they should know the answer already, says, “Both.”

*

Poe is truly, honestly not sure how a whole bunch of mutual admissions of undying love ended with the three of them squeezed onto the couch, all freshly showered and with an enormous omelette on the coffee table in front of them, while _The Princess Bride_ plays on Finn’s bigscreen TV. On the other hand, Poe doesn’t much _care_ how it happened, either, because he has Finn’s arm warm around his shoulders and his lips are still tingling from the kiss Finn gave him not two minutes ago, and on screen the man in black is grinning at Inigo Montoya and saying cheerfully, “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.”

“I gotta learn how to do that backflip,” Rey says around a mouthful of omelette. “Think I could learn how to do that backflip, Finn?”

“Definitely, sweetheart,” Finn says. “Poe, pass me that mug of milk?”

Poe grins and leans forward to snag the mug - it has a Dalek on it, of all things, and he’ll tease Finn about that later. But for now -

He turns to hand the mug to Finn, grinning broadly. “As you wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am imaginarygolux on tumblr; drop on by!


End file.
